


Where you Lead

by skytramp



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Dubious Ethics, Future Fic, M/M, Single Dad Imayoshi, Single Parents, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Dad! Are you up?" Hina called through the kitchen, slamming shut a few open cupboards in her wake.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Of course I'm up." The voice was soft, and it came from behind her. She spun around to see her dad, in his pajamas, leaning against the counter. He never got tired of doing that, and despite the fact that she was almost 15 years old, he always surprised her just as much as he did when she was four.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <b>Single Dad Imayoshi raising his daughter, Hina.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Where you Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! 
> 
> Let's get these disclaimers out of the way. I think the archive warning and the tags indicate it well, but there are flashbacks to a student/teacher relationship here. Consent is freely and explicitly given and, if anything, it's Harasawa that's being manipulated. (I never said imahara was a healthy relationship)
> 
> That being said, please enjoy, this is an amalgamation of dozens of headcanons throughout a handful of conversations with Jordie, Ryn and Marilyn. Single Dad Imayoshi is Jordie's baby, really, and I was happy to write this for her. 
> 
> Oh, and the title is definitely a goshdang Gilmore Girls reference, maybe you'll figure out why.

"Dad! Are you up?" Hina called through the kitchen, slamming shut a few open cupboards in her wake.

"Of course I'm up." The voice was soft, and it came from behind her. She spun around to see her dad, in his pajamas, leaning against the counter. He never got tired of doing that, and despite the fact that she was almost 15 years old, he always surprised her just as much as he did when she was four.

"You know there's school today, right?" She replied. It was her first day of high school, and she'd been bugging him for weeks with constant reminders. She didn't have any reason to suspect he'd forgotten, he never really forgot anything, but that didn't stop her from reminding him last night as they went to bed, or again now, this morning.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" He smiled, squinting his eyes like he always did, the laugh lines were thick and etched into his skin, despite the fact that he was not even thirty five.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you don't ever forget anything, tell that to your keys last week!" She taunted. He'd made the mistake of putting his keys by the television, instead of on the small hook by the door, and the fact that it'd taken him twenty minutes of searching and cursing to find them was something that Hina planned to use for the foreseeable future to mock him.

"You know, eventually you'll have to let that go." He was still smiling though, and he passed her to pull some milk from the fridge.

"I'll never let it go, I'll use it forever, I'll tell the story to my own children!" She crossed around the counter and plopped down in one of the chairs next to their breakfast table. She supposed it probably counted as a dining table as well, but the designation hardly mattered. It was only the two of them just like it always had been, they never needed more than the two chairs this table offered.

"Oh, Grandpa Imayoshi, perish the thought. " He laughed and poured two glasses of milk, before placing the jug back in the fridge.

"Not for a long time, don't worry." She still sometimes thought about how her dad had only been three years older than she was now when she was born, and shivered. She would _not_ be ready for that any time soon. Not at all.

 

Shouichi set the glasses on the table and returned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Part of him couldn’t really believe that Hina was already starting high school, and when he remembered the sort of stuff _he_ had done in highschool he wanted to homeschool her and keep her away from the world. He wouldn’t do that of course, he’d spent the last fifteen years trying to be the best parent he could, and good parents gave their kids space, no matter how terrifying it was. _Terrifying_ , he thought, _seventeen year old me never would have thought it would take having a kid to make me scared._

Seventeen year old Imayoshi Shouichi was a smiling terror to students and teachers alike. Truthfully, he was a good student, a great student even, but when your mind is always fifteen steps ahead of everyone else, it’s not hard to get on people’s nerves. And, getting on people’s nerves was more than half the fun. 

Teasing and mocking his chemistry teacher and basketball coach, Harasawa Katsunori, had begun his first year of school. The man was serious, quiet, and amazingly easy to manipulate when Shouichi had the urge. He was a good coach, though, and Touou was one of the best basketball teams in the country. Shouichi had spent his first year on the bench, observing the upperclassmen and learning how everything worked. By the start of his second year he was vice-captain. 

Third year brought their team a new power forward, a brilliant manager and another chance at Nationals. It had also brought Shouichi the title of captain and more and more extra late nights at practice talking strategy with Harasawa, and early mornings talking strategy with the manager Momoi Satsuki. 

By the end of the Spring High, both strategy meetings had devolved into something more explicit. The affair with Harasawa was one of Shouichi’s most elaborate plans yet. It had taken years of hints, and preparation, and when Shouichi had finally struck, Harasawa had been a helpless, writhing puddle beneath him. However, Shouichi never would have thought in a hundred years that he’d meet someone who could surprise him as thoroughly as Momoi Satsuki did on the day she propositioned him. She had his every argument covered and refuted, and, in the end, he’d never really wanted to refuse her in the first place.

 

“Hey, dad, are you still driving me to school, or can I take the train?” Hina asked while chewing her eggs. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

She swallowed. “Hey, _dad_ ,” She paused dramatically, “Are you _still_ driving me to school, _or_ can I take the _train_?”

“I’m driving you.” He took a long swallow of his milk and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s your first day and if you get lost they’ll think I’m an incompetent parent.” He smiled across the table at her as she finished her eggs. He could see she was trying to pout, the look was incredibly reminiscent of her mother when he had seen her last and he almost laughed. 

“You know, I’m nearly an adult.” 

“Don’t remind me.” He rolled his eyes dramatically and stacked their plates before taking them to the dishwasher. 

“Adults take the train by themselves.” 

“Good thing you’re not an adult, then.” He shut the dishwasher and rested his hands on his hips. Hina was still and the table, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest. “And I’m driving you to school. And we’re leaving in…” He glanced at the clock above the table. “Fifteen minutes.” 

“What?” She jumped up from the table. She was already wearing her new school uniform, oddly reminiscent of the Touou uniforms he remembered, but her shoulder length hair was frizzy around her face and still crumpled from sleep. “I’m not ready yet!” 

“Then you better hurry.” His voice was calm and he was still smiling, despite that he was still in his pajamas and barefoot in the kitchen. When she sprinted up the stairs, he followed at a more leisurely pace, he had time to drop her off and come back and shower before he had to go to work, he only needed to be presentable enough to walk from the house to the car and back. 

The commute by car was quicker than the train would have been, and Hina was twenty minutes early for her first class when they arrived. They said goodbye and Hina kissed his cheek without embarrassment. Shouichi was reminded of her first day of school all over again, and the bright eyed child she’d been a decade ago. 

Her hair had been tied up with pink elastic barretts that had taken him twenty minutes to perfect. She was the most patient five year old he’d ever met and bounced happily on his lap as he tried and tried again to make the hair sit evenly on her head. He’d been putting her hair up for more than two years but it just wasn’t something he could ever get the knack of. 

Her dress was pink, like the hair ties, and when he dropped her off they’d both cried, but him more than her. Her teacher had laughed and patted his shoulder. She said something about how he wasn’t the only emotional parent there today, and how it was cute. She had probably been flirting with him, he realized later, and if he had been the person he was before Hina he would have jumped at the prospect. 

As it was, he had just straightened her backpack, sure that her bento was secure, and kissed her again on the forehead. If he’d gone to work that day with red eyes, his coworkers respected him too much to say anything. 

 

Hina was bouncing happily in her seat fifteen minutes before class was due to start. She knew it was illogical to be this excited, and statistically the chances were negligible that her day would be as profoundly positive as she hoped it would, but that didn’t stop her imagination from leaping from one extravagant shoujo manga scenario to the next. 

By the time the instructor arrived, a tall man with mostly silver hair and a stern look in his eyes, Hina was so wound up she could hardly speak up when he read roll call from the class roster. She thought his own voice had been a little shaky when he’d pronounced her name but it was probably just her ears, or an accident. He seemed rather old. 

He wrote the name _Harasawa-sensei_ on the chalkboard in elegant characters and Hina pulled her notebook out to take notes. Chemistry was bound to be one of her favorite subjects, she just knew it. 

 

Shouichi spent most of the day at his desk reminiscing rather than editing his most recent article. He’d been in the newspaper business for most of the last fifteen years and his sports articles had readers that rivaled that of the business section. At this point his editor never bothered him and he could procrastinate in peace. 

He’d been thinking a lot about just how much things had changed when Hina was born and he had become a full time parent. Satsuki was adamant: she was sixteen, she would not be sacrificing her future to raise this child, and she was putting her up for adoption, no questions asked, Shouichi had no say in the matter. It had taken him more than two months of persuading to convince her that he could do it, that he wanted this child, and that she could walk away. And when Hina was born, Satsuki signed away her parental rights before she was discharged from the hospital.

The first few months were the biggest whirlwind of his life. It was two months after graduation and he’d just gotten his job as a copywriter at a paper where his father’s company had connections. He felt as if he didn’t sleep for weeks. When he was at work, Hina was at a local daycare, but when he wasn’t at work he took her everywhere. 

The ladies at the local grocery store recognized him each time he came in with Hina in a sling around his chest, and they didn’t even tease him when he spent months trying every brand of diapers they sold until he determined which was the best. 

His neighbors, the ones who woke early enough, would wave as he jogged past, stroller pushed in front of him, each morning around dawn. That had been more difficult, finding a jogging path that allowed for a stroller with minimal bumps in the sidewalk, and adapting his jog so that he could breathe in proper increments and push the stroller simultaneously. 

After jogging was breakfast, and when Hina was old enough, cartoons. They’d sit on the floor in front of the television, her between his legs. He’d practice braiding her hair and she’d babble along to Sailor Moon. 

He didn’t have memories of doing any of those things with his own father, and his mother wasn’t someone he’d ever known. He supposed he probably watched cartoons with a nanny, but the nannies had been a string of women whose faces were lost in a blur of time and unfamiliarity. When Hina was born, and even before, he’d promised himself that he’d be better. He’d be the best father he could, a million times better than his own father had been. 

Around noon his phone rang.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, dad!” It was Hina, she sounded just as excited as she had that morning. 

“Hey, how’s everything going?” He leaned back in his desk chair and crossed his legs. 

“Great! Classes are easy so far, except Chemistry, Sensei is really strict and he taught a full lesson even though it was just the first day! Can you believe that?” Despite her words, she sounded happy, and Shouichi knew she loved a challenge just as much as he did. 

“Oh yeah, my Chemistry teacher sure was something. He could be pretty strict too, but I was a good student.” Imayoshi tried not to laugh when he remembered Harasawa. He supposed the man had been a strict teacher, but Shouichi had been more than he could handle. 

“Harasawa-sensei definitely seems like he’ll be tough.”

Shouichi choked.

“Anyways, bye, dad I have to get my lunch now, I’ll see you when you pick me up! Love you!” He heard the beep that meant the call had ended but he didn’t lower the phone from his ear. 

 

He was seventeen again, and Momoi had just told him she was pregnant. He hadn’t panicked for long, his mind worked too quickly, mapping out plans and scenarios to fix this mess they’d landed themselves in, but he had definitely panicked. He’d run into Harasawa outside the man’s office and before he could stop he shoved them both inside. 

“Imayoshi-kun, what are you-” Harasawa asked as he stumbled back against his desk.

“Shut up.” Shouichi hadn’t wanted to talk, his mind was in overdrive and the only thing he could process was that he wanted it to stop. Part of him confirmed that this behavior wasn’t healthy, but he hadn’t seduced his teacher because he wanted a healthy relationship. He pressed against Harasawa’s chest, pinning the man against the desk, and grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him forcefully. 

The lights were off in the windowless room and when the door shut behind them with a click they were plunged into darkness. Harasawa’s hand fumbled towards the lamp on his desk and he knocked a stack of papers to the floor before he could find the switch, Imayoshi was still kissing him hard, and he shoved his knee between Harasawa’s legs to spread them and grind against his crotch.

Harasawa pulled back and panted, a breathy moan escaping his lips as Shouichi lifted his knee again to rub against Harasawa. 

“We can’t,” He breathed, “Do this here, Imayoshi.”

Shouichi leaned in and bit his neck, hard, just under the collar. “Yes we can.” He said and his voice was fierce. He wasn’t going to stop, he couldn’t stop now. 

“Are you sure?” Harasawa had always been hesitant, but when he asked this question Shouichi knew the deed was sealed, the man just needed reassurance now, and Shouichi gave it to him. 

“Of course I’m sure.” He lifted his knee to grind against him and smiled, the room was dim but he had leaned back enough that Harasawa could see his expression. They kissed again, this time Harasawa leaned into him and his hands slid against Shouichi’s back. 

Shouichi’s hands slid from Harasawa’s neck to his collar and he quickly undid the buttons, not stopping until he yanked the shirt free of his waistband and shoved it down over his shoulders. Shouichi ran his hands over Harasawa’s chest and kissed down his neck, biting again at the same spot he’d already bitten and Harasawa shivered against his mouth.

Harasawa’s hands twisted in Shouichi’s shirt on top of his shoulders and Shouichi never stopped moving. He unbuckled Harasawa’s belt and pants and shoved them down roughly while kissing down his chest. Harasawa’s breath was coming in ragged gasps and his hips pushed forward against Shouichi’s hand when he cupped the front of his underwear. 

Shouichi pulled away just enough to unbutton his own jeans and shove them down his hips. He yanked his erection from his underwear and pushed harshly against Harasawa, only one layer of thin cotton between them. Harasawa still twisted the fabric of Shouichi’s shirt and let out moans with every thrust of their hips together.

“Please.” He panted, leaning forward and resting his face in the crook of Shouichi’s neck. He knew what Harasawa was asking for and he tugged at the fabric and pulled Harasawa’s cock free, he nearly sobbed against Shouichi’s neck when the two slid against each other. He brought his fingers to Harasawa’s mouth and pushed inside, running them along the inside of his cheeks as Harasawa slurped around them, coating them in saliva. 

When he pulled his hands back his fingers were dripping and Harasawa moaned loudly when he brought them together in his one hand, stroking quickly. 

They finished like that, within seconds of each other, spilling into Imayoshi’s hand and against Harasawa’s bare stomach. Shouichi had only made a sound when he finally released, a low growl muffled against Harasawa’s chest, and Harasawa had sobbed. 

When Shouichi walked away, leaving Harasawa alone and soiled in his office, it was with one thought in his head: he could never do that again. And he didn’t. He spent the last half of the school year only seeing his coach during practice, and his chemistry teacher during class. If the team noticed the shift, none had the nerve to confront him, and his grades never wavered. 

He shook Harasawa’s hand at the commencement ceremony and moved on with his life. 

Except, now it seemed Harasawa was determined to be a part of it again. Sure, there was a chance that another Harasawa-sensei was teaching Hina’s chemistry class, but the coincidence was too much for his logical mind to bear. 

He excused himself with his boss and left early, he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything for the rest of the day, not until he was sure. 

 

The rest of Hina’s classes had been boring, truly. Each one was the repetition of the term syllabus, class expectations, and rules that everyone had known since they’d first started school. She’d smiled at a few girls in the hall, hopeful of making new friends, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone outside of a quick hello at the shoe lockers. She had plenty of time to make friends, she mused, and if she joined a club she was certain to have plenty. 

Club signups were after school and when her final class was released Hina was the first out of the door. She had a few options. There was music club, she’d played piano as long as she could remember and she was good. She could try out for an art or social club, something casual, more based on friendship than competition. Or she could join the basketball team. When her and her father had chosen this school she had been adamant, if it didn’t have a girl’s basketball club she wouldn’t attend. It wasn’t much of an argument, as her father had coached her elementary school teams for years and if anyone was eager for her to continue it was him. When she thought about it again, there wasn’t really a choice, she would choose basketball, she always did. 

She ran to the courtyard where the tables were crowded with people writing their names on signup lists, and still more attempting to sign up passersby. She found the basketball club quickly, and snatched the clipboard from a tall girl with glasses not unlike her dad’s. The other girls behind the table laughed.

“Aggressive, I like it.” The girl quipped and Hina smiled broadly. “What’s your name, first year?” 

“Imayoshi Hina. Point Guard.” Her smile never faltered and the upperclassman’s returning smile was almost as bright. 

She finished her sign up and bowed to her new senpais before heading to her locker and leaving the school. Her dad’s car was against the curb and he waved when they locked eyes.

“You’re late.” He said when she slid inside and slammed the door.

“Club signups. I joined the basketball team.” She was still smiling, just thinking about the prospect.

“Of course you did.” He put the car in drive and took them home. 

When they came in they plopped onto the couch side by side, feigning exhaustion. 

“So, tell me more about your day.”

“The rest was fine, just boring. Classes were easy because no one taught anything except Harasawa-sensei.” She thought she saw his hand flinch, but she didn’t know why. 

“What’s he like?” 

“Who? Harasawa-sensei?” She didn’t know why he’d ask more specifically about one of her teachers, he never had before, it’s not like she ever needed help in classes. She supposed it was probably because he’d been the only person she’d mentioned. 

“Yeah.” He replied simply.

“I don’t know. He’s old. Like… sixty probably. Tall, probably taller than you. And really strict. He kicked a boy out of class for chewing gum.” She shivered at the memory, Harasawa-sensei had smacked his meter stick against his own desk with such a loud clap that if _she_ had been chewing gum, she certainly would have swallowed it. 

He didn’t respond and she thought he’d at least make some witty comment about how people shouldn’t be chewing gum in class. They sat in silence for a few more seconds before she spoke up.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“Nope.” He’d answered too fast, a sure sign he was lying.

“You’re lying.” There was no use in being coy with him, she’d learned that years ago. He only responded to blunt honesty, and that was how their relationship worked.

“Yeah, I’m lying.” For once she couldn’t hear the smile in his voice. It must have been serious. She turned her head to look at him. He was still laying back against the couch, but his eyes were closed behind his glasses. 

“So, what’s wrong, then?” She prompted. 

“I don’t know, it’s a grown up thing.” 

She sighed dramatically. When he said that it meant he wasn’t going to talk to her. She hated it. She hated being shut out because she was supposedly too young to understand something. At this point she knew he did it to protect her, and she couldn’t begrudge him that, she’d do the same to protect him. They were all each other had, after all. 

“You know, pretty soon I’ll _be_ a grown up and you won’t be able to use that excuse, anymore.” She said, and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

“I know.” He replied, but said no more. He stroked her hair gently and she leaned further into him. They just sat in comfortable silence. 

It had been years since the last time he wouldn’t tell her something, and that time it was something that was definitely _not good_. She only hoped this was something better. 

She had been twelve, and her grandfather was dying. He was no one to her, of course, she didn’t even think they’d ever met. Her father didn’t keep any pictures of him in their house and he was never mentioned. She wouldn’t have known he was dying except for an overheard conversation between her dad and his sister, and she’d locked herself in her room for hours. 

This strange man, who was related to her, was dying. And her father wouldn’t see him. She couldn’t imagine not wanting to see her own dad. She was twelve years old, the age when most kids started to rebel, especially girls, and she had never felt the urge. The one time she’d had to leave for two weeks for basketball camp she cried the first night, and called him every night afterwards. He was her best friend, and his dad was dying. 

She’d begged, literally begged, she even cried, to convince him to go to the hospital where he was spending his last days. In the end he hadn’t budged. He never asked her how she’d found out in the first place, but he took her to the hospital himself. 

He paced in the waiting room while she met her grandfather. He looked regal and important, even while ailing in a hospital bed, and he hadn’t smiled when she introduced herself. They’d spoken for less than two minutes, and she bowed deeply before she left. In the waiting room, she tried again to convince her dad to go in. He was so close, after all, just twenty feet and he would be there. She couldn’t do it, in the end and they left the hospital. 

Two days later he had died. The funeral was planned, and her dad's sister had called again with the details. He'd thrown his phone across the living room and it shattered on the wall. She'd never seen him that angry before or since. She hugged him and he told her he'd drop her off at the cemetery. 

She didn't bother begging again, she just wore her best dress and stood in the drizzle while a stranger was buried. Her dad picked her up and they didn't talk about it. When he tucked her into bed he kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair. She tried to pretend she didn't hear him crying when the door closed. 

She only mentioned her grandfather one other time. A school project prompted a family tree and her father's hands had clenched so tightly into fists that she'd dropped the topic and didn't ask again. She was happy with just the two of them,but sometimes she wondered if he didn't crave more. 

 

It was him then, for certain. Hina's description truly couldn't be anyone else. _Sixty,_ he wondered, Hina's guess hadn't been far off, he would be in his late fifties by now. He didn't know what to do with this knowledge, but, as he laid in bed that night he couldn't help but wonder what Harasawa looked like now, and how he remembered him. 

He woke early and made Hina lunch before waking her for the day. He promised her she could take the train if he was allowed to pick her up after her first practice. She hugged him goodbye before grabbing her bento and sprinting outside. 

Work was almost as unproductive as yesterday had been. His focus was scattered and when he left it was only after turning in a half-hearted exposé that he fully expected to see back on his desk in a couple days for rewrites. He parked his car outside the third gymnasium and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he approached the building. He was early, but he wanted to see Hina in her practice uniform playing the sport they both love.

The double doors were open and he heard the squeak of gym shoes on the wooden floors before he could see inside. When his eyes adjusted he saw the team running what looked to be a practice match. He found Hina, easily the shortest on the court, playing point guard for one of the teams and he smiled while leaning against the door frame. 

A few seconds later someone approached him. 

"Excuse me, sir." The voice began, and when he turned sharply to look at the speaker he stopped. 

Shouichi swallowed and then put on his best smile. If the game was still going he didn't notice because there, standing in front of him, was Harasawa. 

"Harasawa-sensei, it's been a long time." He desperately hoped his mocking tone covered the state of shock he'd been in for the last twenty four hours. It wouldn't do to show weakness in front of this man, not now. 

Harasawa cleared his throat. "Imayoshi-san, I had wondered if my new student was related to you. Your niece perhaps?" 

Shouichi didn't know if he was truly oblivious or just making some joke at his expense. When had he gotten so hard to read? Maybe he was just out of practice, he hadn't spent energy outwitting so much as a pincushion in the last fifteen years. 

"My daughter, as you should know."

For his part, Harasawa looked genuinely shocked. _You thought it was only your dick I liked, then, Katsunori?_ He found it difficult to believe that as a teacher and coach he hadn't heard the rumors that Momoi's baby was Shouichi's, but perhaps he never gave them credence. Satsuki never confirmed nor denied any of them, after all. 

"I see." Harasawa swallowed and looked back at the court. "She's an admirable student, you should be proud."

"I am."

Harasawa shuffled his feet slightly and Shouichi watched. He was older, true, but he still wore the same clothes, the pinstriped shirt clung to his lean back and somehow even the silver in his hair suited him.

"If you'd excuse me, Imayoshi-san." He said over his shoulder and blew the whistle that hung around his neck. 

Harasawa crossed the gym and led the girls in their cool down. Before they were alone together Shouichi retreated to his car to wait for Hina. It hadn't truly felt like retreat, though, it had felt like escape. Hina slid into the passenger seat without a word.

"How was it?" He asked. 

"You should know." She laughed but it was hesitant. "What did Harasawa-sensei say about me?" 

Of course she'd seen him. He should have known, she had his quick moving brain and her mother's observational skills, a deadly combination hiding in her 158cm frame. He considered playing it off, denying it, but he already felt guilty for not telling her the truth yesterday. 

"He said you were an admirable student, oh, and he thought you were my niece." He smiled as he started the car and they headed towards home. 

Hina laughed. "At least uncle is better than boyfriend, remember that tow truck driver?" 

He laughed too at the awkward memory. 

"One of the second years saw you and said you were hot, by the way." She continued, "Can I just not be the girl with the hot dad for once? Ugh." He could see her shiver in exaggeration from the corner of his eye. 

"You know that's not my fault." He'd much rather endure schoolgirl crushes than handle the jumble of feelings in his own gut stirred up by Harasawa. 

 

Hina didn't think her dad was telling the whole truth, at least not yet, but he wasn't lying either. She didn't know her coach well yet, but she had a good eye for people and he'd looked rattled after the brief conversation in the gym doorway. 

When they sat down for dinner she tried again. She had a few different ideas as to what may be going on, and she was going to test them, one by one.

“So, do you and Harasawa-sensei know each other?” She asked as she picked up her chopsticks. His eyes narrowed slightly and she knew she was on the right track. 

“What makes you say that?” He was dodging the question now, she was definitely right.

“Because you’re dodging my question.” She smiled and took a bite. 

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t raised you to be so smart, I can’t even be mad.” He was smiling too, but he looked worried. 

“So, I was right, right?”

He nodded. “Yep. He was my teacher and coach, too.” 

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. Really?” As surprised as she was that she had been right, part of her mind prompted her to realize that that didn’t explain everything. “That’s not everything, though, right?” 

He looked confused as he chewed his meal and she wondered how much of the look was manufactured. She stared him down, not breaking the look even when he looked away. At age seven she’d discovered his weakness for her intense scrutiny. It was something she rarely had to take advantage of, but she couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close to unraveling the mystery. 

“Okay, I give up, _detective_.” She rolled her eyes as he set down his chopsticks and wiped his face. “I’m not telling you all the details no matter how much you beg and if you do anything at all like this we’ll have to have a very serious discussion and I’ll probably never let you leave the house again, but,” he paused and took a deep breath, Hina held hers, “we, sort of, _dated_.” 

Hina couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping slightly, and when she recovered the only word that escaped her mouth was “What?”

“We had feelings for each other, but I haven’t seen him since before you were born.” He explained as if that made it make more sense. 

“Before I was born you were in high school.” 

“I know.” 

“That’s illegal.” 

“I know that too.” 

“Wow.” She took a few seconds to think about everything that this conversation had revealed. So, ex-boyfriend then, not just an ex-coach. She had a surprising amount of trouble considering her dad in a romantic relationship. As long as she could remember he hadn’t dated anyone. He had friends, people she’d grown up with who were almost as close as family, but no one special, no one where the word _feelings_ had been involved. As her mind pieced all the clues together with this new information she came to one conclusion. 

“You still like him, right?” 

“Probably. I don’t know, myself, at this point.” He answered without a second thought and she was almost surprised at his honesty. 

“I think he still likes you.” That part she was almost more sure of. She didn’t know a lot about romantic love, attraction was a weird foreign thing to her and most things were new, but she knew people. People were easy to read and Harasawa’s actions revealed his feelings as clear as a confession. 

“It’s possible.” Her dad conceded. He began eating again as if the conversation was over. 

“So? What are you going to do about it?” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. This was like a movie, long lost lovers reunited after more than a decade apart, and she had a front row seat. 

“There’s nothing to do, hun.” He never called her hun unless he was dismissing her. It was frustrating and she hated it and she couldn’t stop her hand from slamming against the table.

“You could ask him out! You could ask him if he still likes you? You could creepily show up at all my practices until he asks you to leave and then kiss him in the parking lot! There’s tons of stuff to do!” 

“This is one of those adult things, Hina. You wo-”

She interrupted before he could say she wouldn’t understand. “I _do_ understand and I understand you’re too afraid to go after what you want.” 

That was it, that was her final card. Her dad was afraid of very few things, she’d learned, and almost 100% of those things were his own feelings. If calling him a coward was what it would take for him to let himself be happy, she’d deal with the fallout. 

“I’m sorry, you might be right.” He said, and he pushed his chair away from the table. “WIll you clean up the leftovers when you’re done? I’m going to bed.” He left the kitchen before she could protest. 

She finished her meal and put away the rest. She couldn’t give up yet, but she was fairly certain she’d exhausted her primary angle. For some reason, her dad, who never gave up on anything, especially her, had given up on himself before he even started. As she wiped crumbs from the table the solution hit her. It was simple, and it had to work. 

 

The next day at lunch Shouichi received his normal call from Hina. It was becoming a routine, a few quick words as soon as she was dismissed and before she made it to the cafeteria. He noticed she didn’t mention Harasawa again, and he wondered for a moment if she’d given up. To be fair, he should have known better, she was his daughter and she didn’t give up on anything, even if it was hopeless. 

When he picked her up from practice he sat in the car and read a book. He was early, again, but he wasn’t going to walk back into that gym, he would wait for their first official match, and he’d sit in the stands like a responsible parent. A knock on his window startled him and as he shielded his eyes against the glare he could just make out the form of Harasawa standing beside the car. He rolled down the window with feigned nonchalance.

“Yes, Sensei? Can I help you?”

“I thought we could speak a moment.” His voice was tense, and his eyes stared down the street rather than at the car or its sole occupant. Shouichi sighed and opened the car door, he shut it behind him and leaned against it.

“Yes, sir? What would you like to speak about?” Despite the formal topic, he couldn’t keep the mocking tone from his voice, he’d never been able to, even from their first interactions in his first year of high school. His voice was always saturated with insubordination. 

“Hina-kun spoke to me this morning.” _Oh, no._ “She said we had things we needed to talk about, a mutual...interest?” 

“Certainly you mean basketball? I did coach her for a few years.” As if denial would put Harasawa off, he should have known better. 

“Imayoshi.”

“Yes?” 

“Will you go to dinner with me?” _What?_ That was new, that was entirely new. “This Friday.” He continued and Shouichi stared. 

“Dinner?” He was dumbfounded, more than he had been in his entire life. No one ever caught him off guard, and if someone was going to, it would _not_ be Harasawa Katsunori. 

“Yes.” Was his only reply, he did not elaborate, and Shouichi was thankful. He wasn’t sure his brain was capable of absorbing any new information at the moment, he still hadn’t interpreted the original question to his satisfaction. 

“O-okay.” His voice faltered, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even know who he was anymore. 

Harasawa just nodded. “Hina-kun gave me your phone number, I just thought this was better done in person, I shall call you with the details. I have to get back to practice now. I’ll see you Friday.” 

When Hina got in the car she was smiling.  
“I hope you’re happy.” He said as he put the car in drive.

“You said yes, then? I knew you would!” She leaned over and hugged his arm the best she could while they were both belted in and he was driving. “Thanks, dad.” 

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For letting yourself get what you want, for once.” 

 

The next morning Hina was stopped in the hall by one of her senpais. The tall girl with the glasses, who she now knew was Kurosawa-senpai, towered over her as they stood at the lockers. 

“Hey Imayoshi-kun!” Hina smiled up at her. She was starting to wonder if maybe this is how crushes started, because Kurosawa-senpai was awfully beautiful. 

“Kurosawa-senpai.” She greeted her and she thought she saw a blush on the girl’s cheeks. 

“Ooh, it’s so nice to be a senpai, I’m still getting used to it.” She laughed. “Anyways, I was gonna ask, you know how we have no practice on Fridays, right?” Hina nodded. “Since it’s the first week the team was going to go out for ice cream, do you want to come?”

“Absolutely! I’ll check with my dad, first, of course, but it shouldn’t be a problem!” 

“Great!” Kurosawa smiled and looked away shyly before clapping a hand on Hina’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you by the gym after school tomorrow, then, we can walk together?” 

“Okay, see you then.” Hina agreed and the bell rang, indicating it was time for class. Kurosawa waved as she walked away. Hina smiled a lot in general, but she thought she smiled more that day than any day that week. 

 

The next morning was hectic. 

Hina had gotten Shouichi out of bed twenty minutes before his alarm because, somehow between last night and this morning, she’d misplaced her uniform scarf. After scouring the house they’d eventually found it in the car, between the passenger seat and the door but Hina hadn’t calmed down.

“Is everything okay?” He asked her when they finally sat down for breakfast. 

“Mhmm. Yep. Perfect. Yep.” Repetition and redundancy: she was anxious.

“What’s going on?” He tried his hand at her patented staredown. It wasn’t as potent, that look was some weird genetic trait that somehow came from Satsuki, but it did it’s job.

“The team is going out for ice cream since we don’t have practice. I’m just excited, team bonding and all that.” It didn’t feel like the whole truth, but he allowed her the minor deception, she was a teenager, after all, and he knew that was most of the truth. 

“Oh, does that mean you won’t be home for dinner?” 

“Dad, _you_ won’t be home for dinner.” She reminded him, but he hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten since mid-morning yesterday when Harasawa had called him and they settled the details of their date. 

“I know, but the house will miss you.” 

“Well the house can cry about it. I shouldn’t be late though, I’m sure I’ll be home before you.” The suggestion in her tone wasn’t at all subtle and he narrowed his eyebrows in suspicion. 

“You sure you’re okay taking the train?” 

“Yes I’m sure, I take it to school, I think I can handle taking it home.” He was always nervous though, allowing her on public transportation alone. For all she insisted she was nearly an adult, that nearness made him nervous for the dangers young women faced in public. 

“Find out if one of the girls lives close, you can travel together.” 

“I will.” She was humoring him now, her tone almost petulant, but he knew she was listening. 

He left work at half past five and sped home. They were meeting at six fifteen, at some restaurant downtown, and he felt as if a day’s worth of ink and grime had settled on his skin. He changed and washed the best he could and pulled into a parking space just as the clock struck 6:16. Technically late, but technicalities could kiss his ass, at least he was there. 

Harasawa was shuffling his feet outside the restaurant and twirling an errant piece of hair between his fingertips. It was an old habit, one that Shouichi remembered from high school. The hair was more grey now, and he had more lines on his face, but not much had changed really. 

“You came.” Harasawa’s voice sounded surprised, and that hurt just a little. 

“Of course.” He replied, and gestured towards the door. They entered the restaurant and were seated, Harasawa had made reservations. 

“So,” Shouichi began, but his voice trailed off. Conversation had never been a strong point of their relationship before, and it had been fifteen years, besides. He didn’t know where to start. 

“So,” Harasawa mocked back, though his tone was hesitant. 

They received their menus and Shouichi looked to his as a well wanted distraction. They didn’t speak while they chose their food, and when the waiter returned and took their orders and their menus the silence felt heavy.

“Why did you ask me out?” Shouichi blurted. It had been on the tip of his tongue for most of the last two days. In high school he had been the once to seduce Harasawa, and while he knew the sexual chemistry was there, he doubted those feelings survived a fifteen year drought. It didn’t make sense, and Hina definitely got her curiosity from him. 

“I don’t know.” To give him credit, he genuinely sounded like he didn’t know, that didn’t make Shouichi feel any better about the situation though. 

The silence fell again and Shouichi listened to the sounds of the restaurant around them, looking everywhere but Harasawa’s face. After a few minutes, Harasawa spoke.

“Why did you say yes?”

It was a simple question, but suddenly Shouichi’s sympathy for Harasawa’s previous answer quadrupled. He didn’t know why he’d said yes, it felt as if he couldn’t say no. Saying no was something he hadn’t even considered. 

“I don’t know.” He answered at last, and when he looked Harasawa was smiling. 

The conversation flowed after that, though at a slow and hesitant pace. There were pauses, of course, awkward silences that stretched between them like rivers too wide to cross, but they made it through the meal without so much as an incident. Shouichi found it hard to keep his eyes off the changes in Harasawa’s features. He’d already noticed he was still handsome, the years hadn’t changed that, but age had given him deeper wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His hair was almost entirely silvery gray but it suited him. He looked distinguished, regal even, and Shouichi _wanted_ him just as much, if not more, than he had fifteen years before. 

When they left the restaurant they lingered in front of the building. 

“I took the train, so.” Harasawa began.

“I could give you a ride home.” 

“I’d like that very much, thank you.” 

The drive was quick, though not as quick as Shouichi’s hurried rush to the restaurant hours earlier. Harasawa’s house was smaller than expected. Shouichi found himself wondering how long he’d lived there, if he lived there when he worked at Touou. 

He pulled up to the curb and put the car in park and left it running. Harasawa unbuckled but hesitated before opening the door. 

“Would you like to come in?” 

Shouichi turned off the engine. “Of course.” 

Harasawa unlocked the door and Shouichi couldn’t help but see that his hands were shaking. He flipped on a light and stepped inside. Shouichi shut the door behind himself and looked around at the small entrance hallway. 

“Tea?” Harasawa asked.

“Coffee, if you have it.” Shouichi replied, slipping off his shoes. Harasawa disappeared around a corner, presumably to brew coffee, leaving Shouichi to wander slowly through the hall. The walls were mostly bare and a long low table sat against one wall, holding a bowl for keys and a single picture frame. The picture showed Harasawa as a younger man, his arm around a woman about his age, and two children, probably around five and eight huddled at their knees. _Oh_ , he’d never realized Harasawa had a family. It shouldn’t have surprised him. 

Harasawa’s head popped around the corner. “Coffee’s almost ready.”

Shouichi nodded and followed him further into the house. The living room, beside the kitchen, was deceptively spacious and well decorated. For a man whose fashion hadn’t changed in fifteen years he had good taste in decor. Harasawa passed him a cup of steaming coffee and Shouichi leaned his hip against the counter. The coffee burned his tongue when he tasted it, but it was a good distraction. 

"You're not married, right?" It had suddenly occurred to him that he'd never considered the idea, not even years before, that Harasawa hadn't been single. When he was in high school the concept of his illicit affair had been exciting, now the idea made him sick. 

"God, no. My marriage ended years ago." It was a vague answer, but it satisfied Shouichi's curiosity for now. He couldn't bring himself to ask just how many years, and see if the dates coincided.

Harasawa wasn’t drinking anything, it seemed he’d made Shouichi coffee but nothing for himself, and he stood across the kitchen with his hands absentmindedly drumming on the countertop. Shouichi sat the cup down and faced Harasawa more fully. They were only a couple feet apart but the space felt enormous. That space held the weight of the fifteen and a half years it had been since they touched, and Shouichi didn’t know if he could breach it. 

Harasawa moved first, taking the opportunity when Shouichi’s hands were free to step forward and rest his own hands on either side of Shouichi’s neck. He looked up at Harasawa and saw the hesitation he felt mirrored back in his eyes. 

“Can I?” The question trailed off but the intent was clear. Shouichi wanted to scream the loudest _yes_ he could muster, but he only managed a shaky nod. The kiss was the gentlest one they’d ever shared but it broke something loose inside Shouichi and soon his fingers were scrabbling at Harasawa’s hips as his tongue delved deep inside his mouth and he yanked them closer together. 

Harasawa’s butt hit the edge of the counter and Shouichi began pulling at his clothes. For a moment he felt seventeen, in the dimly lit office, touching his teacher for the last time, dropping the button down shirt from his shoulders. Their mouths moved together and Harasawa’s legs spread before Shouichi even moved his own into place, it was like a dance they both remembered, despite distance and decay. 

He pulled up his knee and rubbed against the bulge in Harasawa’s slacks. Harasawa’s own hand moved down to the front of his pants, pushing against the fabric, and they both pulled away from the kiss. Harasawa moaned and Shouichi bit his lip to keep quiet at both the sound and sensation. Before they could continue Shouichi’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

He stepped back, away from the circle of Harasawa’s arms and pulled out his phone, it was Hina. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking back down at his phone. Harasawa waved a hand in dismissal, though his eyes looked disappointed. 

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey, dad.” Hina said, she didn’t sound scared or hurt and Shouichi was relieved, but also sort of frustrated that he’d answered the call.

“What’s up?” He hoped his voice was even, but he could see his hand was a little shaky from adrenaline. 

“Nothing really, I just hadn’t actually expected you to not be home when I got here. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” He ignored her suggestive tone, despite how incredibly spot-on it was. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’ll be home soon.” He avoided eye contact with Harasawa when he said the words, keeping his head down, looking at the floor. 

“How was your date, then?” She asked, and he smiled.

“Good. Really good. I’ll talk to you more later. Love you, see you soon.” He hung up the phone and looked up at Harasawa at last. He’d stepped over and was sipping at Shouichi’s abandoned cup of coffee. “I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“It’s quite alright.” 

“Hina isn’t home alone very often, I couldn’t-” 

“No, I understand. She’s your priority. That’s how it should be.” His voice sounded sad, and Shouichi thought about the kids in in the photo. They were probably his age or close to it. He wondered if they spoke to their father. 

“She’s always my priority. But,” he steeled himself, taking a deep breath, “I’d like this to be a priority too, you know, _this_.” He gestured between the two of them. 

“You would?” Harasawa was in. He knew by the tone of his voice, that expectant question. He just needed reassurance, maybe not much had changed. 

“I would.” He replied and Harasawa nodded, looking pleased. “I’ll call you this weekend, we’ll make plans to continue where we left off.” 

Harasawa’s returning laugh was shaky, but genuine. He showed Shouichi to the door and when his shoes were on Harasawa kissed him. It was a perfect recreation of the gentle kiss in the kitchen, soft and sweet and Shouichi wanted it more than he’d ever wanted something that gentle in his life. 

“See you soon.” He said and he shut the door behind him. He would see him soon. Suddenly he was sure, this was something he wanted, something he maybe even needed, and he was going to let himself have it. 

 

Hina flipped on every light on the first floor while she waited for her dad to come home. She was hyper, over excited and impatient. If she had a best friend she would have called them immediately and screamed about the events of the night. As it was she had her dad, and it was better to yell about it in person than over the phone. 

She’d met Kurosawa-senpai by the gym doors after school. They’d walked together, talking about how Hina liked the new school, the team, Kurosawa told her funny stories from the last year and they’d laughed the whole way to the ice cream shop. The shop was full to bursting with the rest of the girl’s basketball team all crowding around the glass display case searching for flavors they wanted to try. 

Hina ordered mint chocolate chip, Kurosawa ordered vanilla, but paid for both. They hung out with the team, eating their ice cream and laughing and joking. It was fun, and Hina was almost certain she was making friends now. When they were finished and just about to leave she remembered her father’s insistence that she find someone to travel home with and she asked the team. Kurosawa didn’t live the closest, but she insisted it was no problem if she took the train one more stop and walked back. 

The walk to the station was uneventful, they continued where their conversations had left off, and elaborated with observations about their teammates’ behavior that evening. When they found their train and sat down Kurosawa held her hand. Her hand was warm, larger than Hina’s own, and the smile that plastered her face couldn’t have been wiped away by anything short of apocalypse. 

Kurosawa walked her all the way home, despite Hina’s objections that Kurosawa would have to walk farther back home alone. At the doorstep they’d finally let go of each other’s hands and when Kurosawa hugged her, Hina’s head resting just below the tall girl’s shoulder, she’d thought they might kiss, and was disappointed that they hadn’t. 

“See you on Monday, Imayoshi!” Kurosawa called from the sidewalk as she left. And Hina had just waved, blushing and smiling. 

The sound of her dad’s key in the lock pulled her from her memories and she jumped up to meet him at the door. 

“How was it?!” She nearly yelled as he took off his shoes and stored them. 

“It was good. I think we’ll go out again.” His voice and words were calm but she could see they were true. He looked happy, really happy for the first time in a long time, like something had been missing. The idea hurt her heart, but she was vindicated, as well. She always thought he deserved more than what he had. He was worth it. 

She hugged him. 

“How was your ice cream thing?” He asked as he petted her hair.

“It was good.” She said into his chest. 

“Just good?” She could hear the perpetual smile in his voice and she smiled too.

“More than good.” 

“Good.” He repeated. “Let’s got to bed, it’s been a long day.”


End file.
